


the liveliest home for a second son

by Signel_chan



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/M, Family, Family Fluff, Post-Canon, their ending SAYS many children I'm just doing my part
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:42:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24844015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Signel_chan/pseuds/Signel_chan
Summary: Caspar and Hilda's days of nothing but fun and zero responsibilities couldn't last forever, but the ways they changed were beyond anything either of them could have expected.
Relationships: Caspar von Bergliez/Hilda Valentine Goneril
Comments: 1
Kudos: 15





	the liveliest home for a second son

Having accepted the reality that he was never going to be more than second-best in his family, Caspar had only slightly reluctantly resigned himself to a life of fun, enjoyment, and no sort of pressure to do anything with his days; what he found himself wrapped up in was the exact opposite of what he’d spent much of his time looking towards, and while he couldn’t complain about what the goddess had given him, he did wonder where it had all come from in the first place. It had started with deciding to travel Fódlan with Hilda, as well as venture past the borders to explore other territories, and had ended when she’d been ordered back home by her brother, who’d given him the opportunity to lead a life as a knight under his command.

Since knighthood was more than Caspar had bargained for ever receiving he accepted the offer, finding a home in Goneril territory with Holst directing him where to go and with Hilda always begging him to come home alive, to keep her company every night. Naturally, within months of him taking the knight’s position he had married her, to make her an honest woman despite all of their activities she’d convinced him to take part in for almost as long as they’d been close with each other.

One thing led to another, and within a year of them making a home in the territory she was with child, and from there everything seemed to be unstoppable in their lives. Their son was never expected to hold land or a position as lofty as his uncle’s, being the child of two younger siblings of two very different families, but he was adored by his parents from the moment he gave his first wailing cry, despite the realization that caring for him would be an awful lot of work. Becoming parents hadn’t quite been on their to-do list at that time, but neither Caspar nor Hilda would’ve changed it for the world, and they were both eager to introduce Holst to the child the first chance they got.

The novelty of letting Holst meet his younger sister’s children never wore off even as the years went by, especially since he seemed apprehensive to the idea of starting a family of his own. He made frequent claims that if anything would happen to him, it would be that firstborn son taking over the Goneril land, something that neither parent had expected to hear happen. “Are you…sure you want him?” Hilda asked, looking for clarification as she held the boy in question tight to her chest, him old enough at that point to know that it was him being discussed but still too young to know what it meant. “I mean, wouldn’t it just be smarter if it was a kid of your own?”

Holst shook his head as he laughed, a jolly sound that made the _other_ children present all join him in their own chuckling. “There’s no reason for me to go through all that work when you’ve already done it, Hilda. He’ll get the land, and if not him, then the next one.”

As much as Caspar had always wished that such a statement would’ve been made regarding him and his position in his family, he couldn’t argue against the idea of one of their children getting to succeed in life just because their uncle chose not to act to his full potential. “I think it’s a good idea,” he said, earning a sharp gasp from his wife. “What? I think if Holst wants to give one of our kids the land, we shouldn’t stop him. Means less work for us when we’re old and gray.”

“Oh, I do like the idea of less work…” Letting go of the oldest boy and replacing him in her arms with their youngest child, a baby girl swaddled in a fine pink blanket nearly the same shade as her mother’s hair, Hilda gave Caspar a longing look before snapping her eyes back over towards her brother. “Promise me you’re not planning on changing this on us at the last second, then I’ll agree to letting you groom Hilbert into being your successor.”

Raising his hands to show he wasn’t crossing his fingers, Holst made the promise as demanded and the word seemed to be set in stone, the topic not being addressed again for several years. The second time it was brought up, he’d wizened to the fact that perhaps including his potentially irrational sister in the conversation would be detrimental to his cause, and made sure to approach the topic when it was just him and Caspar. Nothing had changed in the interim, in terms of the direct succession, but Holst merely wanted to add on the potential chain of selection if something were to happen. He didn’t do anything strange, suggesting the children in order, and then once they were old enough to have children of their own they’d be added in accordingly, and because there was nothing to argue with Caspar accepted everything as it was.

“Just, uh, don’t tell Hilda I was talking about all of your kids like this,” he begged when the conversation was over, a fear in his eyes that Caspar could only explain as a man’s fear of being chased down by his axe-wielding sister. “Never know how she’s going to take something like this, not anymore.”

“My lips are sealed,” Caspar replied, and the men shook on the agreement before going their separate ways, Holst off to do whatever activities he did in his spare time and Caspar to go home to relieve his wife of childcare duties, for at least a little while.

His trip was short, mostly in part to how fast he could move even in full knight armor, but partially because of how close their family home was to Holst’s. It made serving the lord easier, and it had them right near town just in case anything strange happened that required intervention of one kind or another. He knew he was home when he could see the blankets and clothes all out to dry on a line, work he’d done before going to his actual job, and work he’d finish after getting inside and relaxing for a moment. Like he did every day, Caspar took off his armor outside the front door and set it on the ground, to air out any sweat and stench before he took it inside to polish it; then he was opening the front door as discretely as he could, just in case anyone inside was asleep.

Sometimes there _was_ someone asleep, but most days it was a wave of children attacking him the moment they saw him walking inside. The force of all of them hitting at once was enough to get him to stumble backwards, before he could lean forward and push them all back in with his arms wrapped around them. They all cheered and cried for their father’s return home, some with real words and others with nothing more than screeches, and he’d be lying to himself if he said it didn’t always bring a tear to his eye to have it happen. “Let me close the door!” he bellowed, giving them the cue to back off long enough for him to pull the door shut behind him, collapsing against it and letting the stampeding wave overtake him a second time. The pile was filled with less cheering and more laughter this time, which he joined right in with, overpowering all of the children with his own chortles.

Eventually, their fun was broken up for real, as the kids began to pull themselves away to go back to whatever they’d been doing before he’d gotten home. The only child not to find their way elsewhere was the youngest, sitting confused on the floor because she’d been helped into the pile by one of her older siblings. “Do you want to go find your mother?” Caspar asked her, standing up before bending back down to offer her a hand, which she daintily grabbed a finger on, giving him a smile with just as much of her gums visible as there were teeth for her to flash. “Up on your feet, let’s go find where she’s at this time.”

Their walk together was painfully slow, even for someone who spent most of his time in restrictive armor, but Caspar wouldn’t _dare_ rush one of his children when she was taking her time making sure all of her steps were careful. As it was a daily thing for them to do, he knew where to gently steer her, and soon enough they were walking into one of the many bedrooms in the house, where Hilda was laying on the bed, string and beads in her hands as she worked on a necklace. “Can’t you ever knock when you come in?” she asked when she looked past her work to see her husband hoisting up their daughter to set her on the bed. “Come on, all of the other kids know to do it, you can teach Irenka to do it as well.”

“She’s just a baby, she’s got time to learn,” he replied, making sure that the girl didn’t topple over backwards as she stood up on the uneven surface of the bed to charge at her mother, who set the necklace aside to catch the incoming child. “Besides, I don’t know how you don’t know when I’m home, they’re always so loud out there.”

“Trust me, I know when you get here. You’d think we have a small army living under this roof with how loud they get sometimes, especially when they first see you in the evenings.” Sighing as she set Irenka down on the bed next to her, nestling her in between her side and the pillows, Hilda looked at Caspar with her lips pressed together, puffing her cheeks a couple of times before shaking her head and moving on completely. “It’s only going to get worse, I know, but sometimes I’d just like a little time without worrying about them fighting or hurting each other on accident.”

“None of them have hurt anyone yet,” Caspar pointed out, before immediately retracting his statement when he saw Hilda’s unamused expression. “Well, minus the time there was that scuffle you let happen before I got home. But that one wasn’t my fault.”

She glanced past him at the still-open doorway, where the ambient sounds of the other children doing as they pleased was wafting into the room. “It was just as much my fault as it was yours, don’t even try to blame me for it.” Her tone was commanding and harsh, and even though Caspar knew she didn’t mean much with it he decided that was as good a time as any to leave her and the youngest child alone for a while, so that he could go spend a couple moments with each of the other children.

It was as easy as walking out of the bedroom to find the next person on the list, a tiny boy with hair the same color as his mother’s styled in a high ponytail that had to have been done by one of his older siblings. “Dada, c’mere,” the boy said, waving for Caspar to follow his lead, and so they went into the other wing of the house, where the children’s bedrooms were all organized. He went straight into his own (which was really his and Irenka’s, but she was still young enough to share a room with her parents) and pointed towards a stuffed toy that had seen better days, a bear missing both of its arms and one of its eyes. “Dada, wha’ppen?”

Distinctly remembering that bear to have been in still-bad but at least whole shape just the night before when he’d tucked the boy into bed, Caspar knew that someone needed to be held responsible for the action but he didn’t know who. “That’s a good question, Cuyler,” he answered, picking the bear up and finding it smelling much like the wildflowers growing outside the house. “If you wanna know, I think one of the bigger kids did it.”

“’tida do it?” There were tears brimming in Cuyler’s eyes as he made his accusation, and it took all of Caspar’s strength to not pick the boy up and run him over to wherever the sibling he thought caused the bear so much suffering. “No, no no no…”

“Don’t worry, we’ll take care of things right away! You’ll have a better bear by bedtime, I can assure you!” Of all of the roles he played in life, teddy bear surgeon was not one of them, so Caspar was already preparing to have to ask Hilda to make a run to somewhere nearby to see if she could get a replacement toy, despite knowing her intense aversion to work that had only grown with time. “Why don’t you find something else to play with in the meantime, while I sort things out?”

All of the words went right over Cuyler’s head but he was at least able to grasp that he wasn’t getting a new bear right that second, and that put an end to the problem in his mind for a moment. The problem was far from over in Caspar’s, though, and off he went to find the potential culprit, an easy task given that she was laying in her bed, mimicking her mother’s habit of making jewelry to get out of other things. “Astrida, a word,” he said as he entered the room, seeing the girl look up from her different colors of string and flinch at his appearance. “Did you rip up your brother’s bear?”

“N-no,” she replied, shifting her eyes so that he couldn’t look into them easily. “Wasn’t me.”  
“And you’re not lying?”

“Not lying,” she repeated, almost sounding like she was, in fact, lying. The only reason Caspar took her word as it was was because he knew that Astrida was incredibly quiet, and barely spoke to anyone even if she was being spoken to. She was the only one of the children to not make much in the way of noise during the stampede every day, and wherever she got the ability to act withdrawn from, it certainly wasn’t from either of her parents.

He apologized for intruding on her and backed out of the room, watching her slowly pick up her craft once more as he was leaving. As it usually went, it was easy to blame Astrida for things because she wouldn’t defend herself, but he’d known deep down that she hadn’t been responsible for the issue with Cuyler’s bear in the first place. That left the _usual_ culprit for such behaviors, and he knew exactly where to find them: outside, practicing swordplay with a wooden sword against a tree.

There were three boys out there when Caspar found them, two of them with their mother’s pink hair and one—the only one, at that—with his blue. “Drop the weapons and get over here,” he commanded once he knew that all three of them would hear him, and immediately the oldest of the three came running over, wooden sword discarded as he easily outsped his brothers in getting to where he’d been asked to go.

“We took care of it,” Hilbert proclaimed, standing up as tall as he could and still barely meeting his father’s waist with his vibrant pink head of hair that proved his eventual claim to the Goneril lands. “Me ‘nd Rainer hit ‘em with the swords a bunch! Just like you would want us to!”

Pausing for a second as he looked over at the other two, seeing the aforementioned Rainer throwing his own practice sword at his brother before finally running over, Caspar brought a hand up in front of his face and slowly closed it into a fist as he moved it back down. “I’ve told you a million times the swords aren’t for real fighting! You’re both getting big enough to actually hurt someone with one of those, and you picked on your younger brother for, well, picking on _his_ younger brother? Why would I want you to do that?”

When Rainer came into the conversation he mimicked his older brother’s pose, looking like an exact copy of him minus the color of his hair, and Caspar had to go over why taking justice into their own hands was a bad idea for a second time, then again for a third when the final child came over, looking a bit bruised from where he’d been attacked but not bothered by it. “They hit me,” the boy said with a straight face, before at once bursting into clearly fake tears. “They hit me lots!”

“You broke Cuyler’s bear, they thought they were supposed to hit you.” With the two boys who’d thought they’d done the right thing standing right there, Caspar figured he’d need to finish the whole ordeal right there before they even went inside the house. “None of you did anything right in all of this, you thought with your muscles and not your brains and sometimes you just…can’t let the muscles talk you into bad things. Why did you tear up the bear, Herrick? What made you do that?”

The crying boy stopped at once, hearing his name and the fact that he wasn’t being yelled at. “We were playin’ toss and I messed up,” he explained, sounding sheepish as his older brothers snickered at what he was saying. “But it was okay, ‘til you were home.” He looked to be on the verge of crying again when Caspar opened his arms and let him charge right into them, wailing by the time he’d been hugged by his father.

Realizing that they were in trouble of some sort, the older two tried to get away, but Caspar barked for them to stay right where they were, sounding as intimidating as he could when he had a young child clinging to him for comfort. “What would ever make the two of you think you’re allowed to punish someone? Is that how you’ve been raised?”

“But Mother said—” they started a half-second apart from each other, but he silenced them with a focused glare, and it was only Hilbert who could bring himself to speak after that. “She told us we could do whatever we wanted, as long as she didn’t have to do anything about it. She didn’t say we couldn’t do this.” He looked to his partner in crime for reassurance, but Rainer seemed like he was wanting to bail out of the situation, which showed that perhaps not everything was as it seemed.

If this were the Caspar of his younger days, he certainly would have had a lot of fun chewing the boy out for the multiple mistakes he’d made, but he was older, wiser, and much more familiar with having to deal with these sorts of problems, especially between the eldest trio of children. “We’ll discuss this further after dinner, and not a word before it,” he declared, making sure that it was Hilbert and _only_ Hilbert in his sights, a child that stood with the same posture he had in his youth but with the vibrant pink hair of his mother’s side of the family. “You got that? Any more words about this and things’ll just get worse.”

All of the children knew that when their father made statements like that, he meant them, so nothing further was said and after they’d cleaned up their training weapons they were all going inside, where an entirely different mess was starting. The children who’d still been in the house had all made their way to the main gathering area in the house, without their mother present, which meant that everything that could be moved had been, and that a makeshift blanket fort was in the process of being built; except, because the oldest child involved was barely four years old, it was more of a pile than anything else. Rather than scold them for making such a mess, Caspar told the eldest two to help them straighten things out while he kept a firm hand on Herrick’s shoulder as the boy continued to sniffle and calm himself down.

The most exciting part of the evening was dinnertime, as there were enough ravenous mouths in the house that feeding everyone took a lot of preparation. Before he’d even been able to start cooking Caspar had to tell his wife what he needed her to do, tacking on a request to have her bring home something special as a treat for after the meal, and no sooner had she reluctantly given in to the whole idea was he back in the kitchen, getting everything ready to feed all those mouths. He wasn’t a great cook by any means, but he’d taken up cooking at Hilda’s insistence, because she didn’t want to be bothered doing it, and he’d been able to learn from a friend or two who’d been willing to come by and spend time with the (then much smaller) family to help impart the wisdom of cooking. The recipes he knew were basic and simple, but they hit all of the staple food groups and were able to be made in large enough quantities to feed all of them.

It took exactly as long for her to get back with a new toy bear and a sizeable tart made by one of the local bakers as it did for him to cook a chunk of wild bear meat with some accompanying vegetables, him slicing a loaf of bread they’d baked earlier in the week as she came back in the door. “Why is it that there’s never a stampede of children when I come home?” she asked with a huff, setting down the tart on their table before taking a seat for herself, reclining backward as far as she could in the chair. “I’d like to be greeted with love for once!”

“They know better than to try trampling you, or at least the older children do.” Caspar looked away from his shaky cutting skills to see Hilda trying her hardest not to show that she agreed with him, because they both knew he was right. “Someday they’ll get their chance to do it, once this ‘army’ finally gets big enough.”

As they were talking about what that could mean, their children were starting to make their way towards their spots at the table, knowing that their dinner was going to be served soon. The only one who didn’t sit down was Hilbert, who helped his littlest two siblings to their chairs before making himself available to help bring plates to the table. He may not have been the best at being kind to all of his siblings, but he definitely had his heart in the right place, and that was a trait that was good to see in such a young boy. Together, they were able to get everyone their food and dinner began, a boisterous affair with two adults and five children making their voices heard over the meal (with one child refraining from speaking and slipping away from the table the moment her plate was cleared). These were the family moments that made everything worthwhile, the moments that Caspar had earned when he’d decided to become a knight under Holst in the first place.

But even those happy moments had downsides, and that came after the meal was finished and everything cleared away, the majority of the children going off to do their own things before their bedtime came around. It was just Caspar and Hilda in the room at first, sitting together and talking idly about things, but they were soon joined by a child who seemed scared for what he was walking into. “I know I did wrong,” Hilbert started, catching his mother by surprise and startling his father into remember what he’d said outside. “What should my punishment be?”

“Punishment? What’s he talking about?” Hilda asked, looking in Caspar’s direction for an answer and finding nothing but a stern face softening with every passing second. “Caspar, you better tell me what he did to think he’s going to get punished, or I’m going to get Holst involved, that’s a promise!”

Explaining the story as he knew it took a couple minutes, and everywhere that he was missing a part the child was there to jump in, adding on details that painted a clearer picture for Hilda to understand. She still didn’t seem convinced that they were telling her the truth, but that changed when Hilbert knelt down in front of his parents, begging for forgiveness. “It’s not good for me to act like I did, so I need to be punished. I can do all the chores, or maybe extra work, or—”

“I think you understanding you deserve to pay for what you did shows that you really get that you were wrong. There won’t be any punishment, today anyway.” That decision felt like one of the harder ones Caspar had ever needed to make, because as much as he felt that the boy needed to learn not to be mean to his younger brother, he seemed to understand that misbehaving got him nowhere in life. “If you decide to act up again, though, I’m sure your mother would _love_ getting her brother and his brawling friend to come teach you a lesson.”

“I wouldn’t get Baltie in on this for the first time, but maybe the second or third. He’d rough you up without lifting a pinky, that’s how scary he is.” The sheer look of terror that crossed the boy’s face was enough to make Hilda laugh, before assuring him that Balthus would never do such a thing, especially not to a child. He didn’t quite seem to believe her, the damage of the joke being done, but he was able to leave the room understanding that he’d just had a lot of mercy taken on him and he couldn’t waste the opportunity.

“What a child,” Caspar remarked once he knew that they weren’t going to be overheard. “I mean, all of them are a lot but him especially. And he’s the one who’s going to get the land and the title and everything!”

Hilda laughed, before resting her head on Caspar’s shoulder and interlacing her fingers with his, resting their hands on her leg as he looked at her, waiting to see what she had to say. “I mean, it could be worse, it could be me inheriting the land. At least he’s got potential to be strong and smart and motivated to do things, which neither of us can say we’re all three.”

“Yeah, that’s—hey wait! I’m plenty smart, you take that back!”

“I’ll think about taking it back if you take me to bed. I’m tired.” The playful tone of her voice would have told someone more observant that she was not truly talking about wanting to sleep, but even after their years of marriage. Caspar still didn’t know when she was flirting with him and therefore put her into the bed like she’d asked. It was really a fun-loving miracle that he’d managed to pick up enough hints to sire six children with her, but it was one that he wouldn’t change for the world.


End file.
